Impala
by lemonheadedmegan
Summary: Destiel after the end of the series. Light mention of Sam/Amelia. Pure fluff. The Impala in Dean's new life.
1. Chapter 1

Impala

It was a Saturday.

Dean started the day by making toast and coffee, eating it, and then getting dressed for whatever the day's work would entail. Two years ago, that would have meant preparing for a hunt. Now, it usually means fixing up a car, grocery shopping, or cleaning the house up.

Today, though, he planned on spending a good portion of the day worshiping his baby. It had really been too long since he gave her a loving wash and wax.

In the heat of mid-August, in South Dakota, the car was definitely due for some TLC. Castiel had decided to sit on the porch and read while Dean took care of the car. The two were never very far apart from each other. And after everything they'd been through, didn't they deserve that?

They had taken the land Bobby Singer had left them, rebuilt the house, and settled there in Sioux Falls. Dean fixed cars up quite well and sold them, but he also had a steady stream of customers for immediate mechanic work. Cas helped with ordering parts and keeping numbers straight; the man was pretty good with these things.

Dean turned on the hose and wet the car down. His bucket of soapy water sat at his feet. He started slowly cleaning every inch of that car. Within twenty minutes, his shirt was drenched, mostly from sweat. He stopped in his ministrations and pulled the shirt off.

Castiel watched with mild interest as Dean continued washing the car, bare-chested. The first part of washing was over, now—on to the second part. Dean rinsed the soap off, and began scrubbing the rims of the tires. He was crouched low, and the muscles in his back glistened in the August sun.

Cas looked back to his book. He and Dean had finally professed their mutual affections about a year ago, and enjoyed each other's—ahem—private company quite often. He enjoyed the view, yes, but Dean was busy.

Dean was humming quietly to himself as he cherished his baby. He carefully cleaned the windshield wipers and the gas cap. Side mirrors were cleaned with reverence. He was dripping sweat, but was careful not to get any on the car. He decided he needed to cool off—it felt like ninety degrees outside.

Dean walked over to where the hose was laying, and squeezed the handle to allow the water to drench himself. It worked—he was definitely cooler. He returned to the car, still dripping.

Castiel watched carefully now, over the top of his book. He saw how Dean's muscles worked together as he washed the Impala. His body, golden tan from the summer sun, was positively incandescent. Even form yards away, Castiel could see little droplets of water dropping off of Dean's back and onto the ground.

Castiel didn't even realize he was moving until his finger reached out to touch Dean's back. Dean swiveled around, only to smile broadly upon seeing Castiel.

Cas grabbed Dean's shoulders and kissed him heavily. Dean was surprised at first, but dropped the sponge and wound his arms around Cas' waist. Cas' shirt was wet now, too, and they were twined together in a way that was decidedly _not_ appropriate for company.

Luckily, they had none.

Dean hefted Cas up and around so that he was sitting on the hood of the Impala. His basketball shorts aided him in sliding back enough so that Dean could slot himself between Cas' legs. Dean lapped into Castiel's mouth, and Cas twisted their tongues together. Cas applied pressure to the roof of Dean's mouth, pulling a moan from him. Cas wrapped a leg around Dean, and gripped his back tightly, fingers digging in.

Dean never got to waxing the Impala that day. Come Sunday morn, he had to wash the hood all over again.

Oh, well.


	2. Chapter 2

Impala

It was a Sunday.

Sam has invited Castiel and Dean to his own house, not two miles from Dean's, for dinner. They are to bring mashed potatoes.

Cas and Dean ride together in the Impala to the grocery store to buy a sack of potatoes. They have the heat turned as high as it would go; the cold December air was hard to overcome. Cas had scoured the internet for just the right instructions; he had never made real mashed potatoes before, only the box kind. Dean said the box kind would be just fine, but Cas insisted authenticity, like he did with a lot of things lately.

Cas said he wanted the full human experience now.

Cas heads straight to the produce section, and Dean scrambles to keep up. Cas is inspecting the bags, trying to deem which have the best potatoes for the job. He _finally_ chooses one, and Dean leads him to other sections of the shop. They buy coffee for Dean and orange juice for Cas, new toothpaste, and a bottle of TUMS. Dean says Amelia's cooking gives him heartburn, but Cas knows he enjoys eating home-cooked meals.

Cas has tried, and he's gotten better, but they still end up eating toast or microwave dinners most nights. Dean isn't any better; he lived without a real kitchen for a good thirty years. He was never taught to cook, and never had the desire to learn.

They drive back to the Salvage Yard in relative silence. When they stop at a red light, Cas is amazed at how the sunset's light reflects on Dean's face. His eyes are made to stand out and shine, and his skin is tinged orange. Feeling eyes on him, Dean turns to look at Cas.

Cas suddenly jumps to Dean, kissing him quickly before the light changes. They hear a honk and break apart. Dean guns the gas, looking over to Cas every few seconds. The potatoes roll out of their sack, and they thud against the trunk. When Dean finally pulls into the Salvage Yard, he slams the car in park and pounces on Cas.

Dean is sitting in Cas' lap, has his fingers in Cas' hair, and is exploring Cas' mouth. Cas pushes his cold fingers up under Dean's shirt, gingerly touching the skin of his back. When Dean starts to rut slowly against him, Cas clenches his fingers, and nails dig in. Dean reaches to the zipper of Cas' coat, slowly pulling the zipper down. He fingers the hem of Cas' sweater, and puts his hand beneath it to feel the sensitive flesh of his stomach.

Dean tries to push Cas' jacket off, but Cas murmurs that it's too cold outside. Dean grunts and attacks' Cas' mouth more furiously, sucking at his lower lip and biting it. Dean's hips quicken up, increasing the friction on both their groins. Dean starts kissing Cas' throat, eager for more skin.

Cas says, "Dean, it's too cold out here. Imagine walking back to the house with a wet spot on your front?" Dean nips at the base of Cas' throat, eliciting a gasp from the dark-haired man. "Dean—Dean, really, we can finish soon."

"Promise?" Dean breathes into Cas' neck.

"Promise."

Cas lies. They don't finish soon, because Cas insists on making the mashed potatoes first. Dean begs him and tries to distract him with kisses and touches, but Cas is in the _zone_. He follows the directions to the letter, double- and triple-checking everything before he does it.

When they're done, Dean steals a spoonful and swallows a moan. These are seriously fantastic. Like, really, really delicious.

Dean doesn't realize its so close to Christmas time until the pair pull into Sam's driveway. There are lights on every outdoor surface: string lights along the roof, mesh lights on the bushes in the front garden, and a little light-up deer by the door. Cas is enthralled; Dean makes a note to himself to take Cas to the Christmas light show in town. Christmas tunes had been playing for months, but Sam hated going out to put the light up. Amelia threatens him with something bad enough the week before the holiday that forces Sam up onto the roof and untangling lights.

Dinner with Amelia and Sam is nice; Amelia made ham. Sam complements Castiel on the potatoes, and Dean has to agree that his partner did a phenomenal job. They talk about Christmas Day, and it's decided that Sam and Amelia will go to Dean and Cas' home. Amelia will cook Christmas dinner there, and it will be a very good holiday.

The drive home was short and silent. Dean struggled every second to not pull over and jump Cas right then. Just being in the Impala and having no where important to be was reminding him so much of Cas' words early that day.

Dean pulls Cas up the stairs by the front of his coat, not saying anything to Cas' questions and comments.

They finally reach the bedroom, and Cas gets stripped of all his layers quite slowly. Dean removes his clothes hastily and leans to whisper in Cas' ear.

"You broke your promise."

* * *

**Author's Note:**

**I am really, really elated you like it enough to favorite and follow! It really means so much to me! Let me know your thoughts on this Chapter in the reviews below. Everything is appreciated and taken into consideration. (Also, you just might get a miniature invisible wombat in the post...)**

**If you're at all interested (which you're probably not), here is the link to the potatoes Cas is making: **** /a787y9j It's only mashed potatoes because it's what I have to bring to a Christmas party next week and I was researching recipes and writing (yay for multitaking!). **


	3. Chapter 3

Impala

It was a Monday.

The three boys had just decided to stop hunting, officially. It bothered Dean, but he knew he was getting too old to do the job properly. He figured he would take up the position that Bobby had posed—mentoring and information. And he was sick of having to worry about Cas during every single hunt.

Sam, Amelia, Cas, and Dean were all packed into the Impala. There were four duffel bags in the trunk, more than there had ever been before. Dean was driving, Sam directly behind him, Amelia next to Sam, and Cas next to Dean. It was close to one, and Dean was in the driving zone.

Amelia had fallen asleep a few hours ago, Sam actually using his body as a pillow for her. Sam fell asleep soon after her, snoring. Dean was surprised that Amelia didn't wake up, seeing her ear was pressed to his chest.

Cas wouldn't sleep, outright refused to.

"What if something happens, Dean?"

"What could happen? I'm a _great_ driver." Dean gave a meaningful look to his new love, who glared.

"Watch the road, Dean." Dean got a shiver every time Cas said his name in that gravelly voice of his. "You could get into an accident, you could get tired, and feel guilty for being tired, so you wouldn't wake anyone up and then you'd fall asleep at the wheel—don't shush me, Dean, I know how your mind works."

Dean grunted and rolled his eyes. Cas did know how he worked, but that didn't mean he'd have to like it.

Cas sighed. He tuned the radio to a soft rock station, the volume down low.

"Tell me about your car, Dean," Cas murmured. Cas knew that Dean could go on for hours about his baby's engine, about the times he rebuilt her from the ground up.

Dean knew that Castiel hadn't heard this story before.

"You know how you sent me back to '73? To stop Azazel from dealing with my mom. Well, I met Dad first. I was older than he was; he called me 'Mister.'" Cas raised his eyebrows at this; he hadn't known this. "Anyway, I ended up running into him at a car lot. He was set to buy this god-awful '64 _bus_. I actually talked him into buying her. It was pretty sweet."

Cas liked hearing new stories.

"And then, when Sam was, like, four, he was in the back seat playing with those little green army guys. He shoved one down into the ashtray. Dad was pissed, of course, but he couldn't get it out. I remember staring at it, knowing that it would be there forever. Even when I rebuilt her, I made sure she still had that army man."

Cas nodded, and scooted a little closer to Dean.

"I think I was like seven? I had LEGOs, and I was playing up front while Dad was inside Bobby's house. I stuck a few of the blocks down there, and—hear, listen." Dean cranked the heat on—it couldn't hurt, it was already cold. There was silence, then a rattling started. Just a little "ding-ding-ding." "See? It's great, every time. It reminds me so much of being a kid."

"What else, Dean?" Cas was eager now, his knee touching Dean's.

"Well, me and Sam carved out initials into the dash, which got us a good whooping. That got filled in by Dad, but we could still kinda see it. I had to replace the dash the first time I rebuilt her, though. It was completely totaled."

Dean paused, remembering the first rebuild.

"That was after Dad died. I was so _angry_. Sam was pissing me off, not hunting was pissing me off, I felt like I had to do _something_ or I'd go nuts. I got so pissed that I just started beating the car. I had to replace the trunk lid, I bust a hole right through it."

"Did it make you feel better?"

"Yeah, for like ten minutes. Then I felt guilty 'cause I yelled at Sammy, even though it wasn't his fault, 'cause I broke the car, 'cause I couldn't keep it together."

Dean's voice was breaking. Cas scooted closer to Dean, giving him a hug, awkward because of the strange positioning. Dean tried to keep one hand on the wheel, the other straining to pull Cas closer to his body.

"Dean, I'm so sorry."

"S'not your fault, you weren't even with us yet."

"No, I'm sorry you had to go through so much pain. I'm sorry you had to grow up so fast, that you needed to keep everything bottled up. I wish I _had_ been there with you, to help you. I just love you so much, Dean." Cas was practically whispering by the end.

It wasn't the first time Cas had told him that he loves him. But it was the first time Dean said it back.

"God, Cas, I love you, too."

It wasn't until moments after this that they remembered Sam and Amelia were in the backseat.

"Aww, you guys are so sweet," Amelia murmured.

"Yeah, real sweethearts," Sam added sarcastically. There was a thud, then an "Ow!" from Sam.

"Oh, shut up," Dean muttered, holding his angel closer to him.


	4. Chapter 4

Impala

It was a Tuesday.

Dean and Cas were cooking together. Cas had several cook books, and had watched several videos on YouTube. He was prepared for cooking.

What he was not prepared for was the big distraction Dean was being.

Cas was checking the pasta to see if it was done yet, while trying to keep an eye on the ground beef he was cooking. Dean suddenly came behind him, wrapped his arms around and grabbed his hands so that Dean was controlling Cas' movements.

When Dean put the wooden spoon down, he twisted Cas around to look him in the eyes. Cas pouted at him, which made Dean grin. Dean kissed him, trying to work around the pout, but Castiel stayed resolute, his lips like a statue.

Dean chuckled and pulled away. He went back to washing dishes. Cas returned to fussing over the meat, but Dean couldn't help himself. He went to Cas and put his hands on his lover's hips, swaying them.

Cas didn't say a word, just continued to mix the meat. After a moment, he locked his hips into place. Dean pushed, but Cas pushed back. Dean trailed his fingers up and down Cas' waist, but Cas ignored them. Dean blew cold air on the back of Cas' neck, but Cas refused to acknowledge it.

Dean huffed and turned away. Cas finished the meat and mixed it with the sauce. He was proud that he didn't burn it. The noodles got drained, and Cas doled out two bowls of spaghetti.

They ate the first dinner they made together—and correctly, with no fires or injuries—in silence. Dean kept himself from moaning around the delicious food, and Cas purposefully moaned loudly. Dean shot him a glare, but Cas wasn't looking.

Dean stood up abruptly, and put his half-eaten bowl in the sink. He turned around sharply to see Cas contemplating a meatball. Dean rushed him, attacking his lips, trying to work them open. But Cas was like marble. When Dean rose his head microscopically, Cas' eyes were wide open and blank.

Dean finally gave up; Cas was in a mood, apparently. Dean went outside.

His baby had been whining lately, and he needed to replace the belt. He popped open the lid and examined the area. He was going to have to get on the trolley for this. He covered his t-shirt with his work shirt, got down on the ground, and slid under his car.

He was just removing the old belt when he felt hands around his ankles, hands that were strong, hands that were pulling him from under the car.

Dean immediately assumed it was a demon, and cursed himself for leaving the holy water flask on the work bench, twenty feet away. In his defense, it had been years since they last fought a demon. But still.

When his head cleared from under the car, he sat up to try to attack the demon. But it wasn't a demon.

It was his husband.

Cas was bent over at the knees, and was pulling Dean's face towards his own. Dean was a little shocked, given Cas' coldness earlier, but quickly got with the program. His back was against the front of the Impala, and Cas was somehow in his lap, though. They were still on the trolley, and Dean had to dig his heels into the dirt to prevent them from rolling. He was completely trapped, between a car and a hard place.

Dean acknowledged his own pun, and let out a chuckle. A hard place, indeed, he thought, and Cas rubbed himself against Dean.

A wicked, cruel idea popped into Dean's head. He acted on it.

When Cas pulled away by a hairsbreadth to breathe, Dean shut his mouth and remained impassive. He did not respond to Cas kissing his face, his throat, or the clothed frotting that was going on.

Eventually, Cas gave up.

He growled, shoved himself off of Dean, and stormed back into the house. Dean chuckled again, at no one, and slid back under his car, trying to convince his lower half to stop being so damn excited, it wasn't going anywhere.

By the time he had the new belt in place, and came out from under the car, he was greasy and sweaty from the June sun. He patted his baby, assuring to come out and wash her soon, and went into the house.

He couldn't see Cas as he made his way up into their shared bathroom. He removed his clothes and turned on the shower. After a few minutes of scrubbing the grease off his hands, he was shocked to feel hands twining around his waist. Large, wide hands. That were no longer on his waist, that were trailing further and further down.

"That is the _last_ time you choose your car over me," Cas growled in his ear. Dean could feel Cas' hardness against him, and Little Dean quickly rejoined the conversation.

"Oh, yeah?" Dean growled right back. "Well, _that_ will be the last time you choose to _cook_ instead of me." Dean whipped his hands up and grabbed Cas' hair, and claimed his lips. There was a second of warring for domination, then sweetness.

It was the last time either of them chose cooking or cars over their husbands.

Well. Not the _last_ last time.

**A/N: Sorry for the later posting, it's been hectic here. Three words: Mother. In. Law. I'm so glad you all liked the last installment, and please review!**


	5. Chapter 5

Impala

It was a Wednesday.

Dean had finally had enough of Cas' begging, Sam's meaningful looks, and Amelia's stern amusement.

He was going to hang the Christmas lights.

Cas had decided on white lights, opposed to the more colorful ones that Dean was leaning towards. Cas had also picked out a light-up _deer_, for Christ's sake. Dean really didn't know much about Christmas decorating, and Cas knew even less, but they decided, as their second actual Christmas together was approaching quickly, that they'd better do something.

Dean was on the roof, strands of miniature light bulbs around his neck and arms. He was trying (not very successfully) to unravel them. Cas was on the ground below him, making sure everything was even and setting up the deer (which, turned out, was able to bob its head up and down like it was eating the snow on the ground.). Once Cas was able to assure Dean that the lights were even, not at all crooked, Dean would fasten them into place with zip ties.

Dean was glad their house was small, and didn't have that much roof. It took nearly two hours, though, and Dean's hands and feet and—_ahem_—other parts were freezing. He climbed down the ladder slowly, making sure Cas was holding the bottom so he wouldn't slip. When he was a few rungs from the ground, he slipped.

He started falling back, but Cas placed both hands firmly on his bottom and pushed him up with a grunt.

"Dean—you're a lot heavier than I remember you being!" he groans, shoving Dean back up.

"Well, sorry, if you would stop baking all those damned _cookies_." Dean was now safely on the ground, rubbing his hands together. He started back towards the house, trying to escape the cold. Dean had no idea how Cas wasn't freezing in just a sweater and Dean's spare winter coat.

Cas pulled Dean's arm back. Dean started to groan, ask "What _now_?" but Cas silenced him with a large wet kiss. Cas pushed his hands to Dean's neck—

"Ahhh!" Dean shrieked.

Cas' hands were like _ice_. That vindictive little _shit_.

"Oh, it's on!" Dean bent to grab a handful of snow from the ground, quickly balled it up, and tossed it. It landed square in his chest.

Cas repeated Dean's movements, only to have a snowball that was less ball and more loose powder. Dean laughed at Cas' unamused face. Cas tried again, with less than stellar results. Dean picked up a handful, and told Cas to do the same.

Dean demonstrated how to form the ball, how to make sure it'll stay solid through flight, and then told Cas to throw it at him.

The snowball landed on the Impala's windshield.

Dean looked unamused by this, but Cas was laughing his head off, bending to make more snowballs to launch towards Dean. Dean let Cas assault him, occasionally throwing some of his own.

When one of Cas' snowballs hit Dean's actual balls, Dean just decided to fall to the ground and groan in mock pain. The snow didn't even hurt very much, but he felt like screwing with Cas. It worked; Cas came running over, kneeling next to Dean in the snow.

"Oh, Dean, I didn't really hurt you, did I? I'm so sorry—it was an accident!" Cas was trying to pat all the snow off Dean's coat, looking at him worriedly.

Dean chuckled and started making a snow angel. Cas frowned at him. It only made Dean laugh harder. Cas flounced back into the snow perpendicular to Dean, crossing his arms over his chest. Their feet were touching.

"Cas, you're supposed to swing your arms up and down, see? To make wings." Dean demonstrated.

Cas rolled his eyes.

Suddenly, Dean heard a sound, like a million boots stomping through fresh snow at once, and Cas started giggling like a child.

Dean sat up, careful not to mar his snow angel. Cas' arms were still crossed, but there was a _massive_ wing imprint on the snow. Dean's jaw dropped.

"Cas?" Dean asked softly. Cas wouldn't stop giggling.

They finally got back into the house, after Dean made a comment that if he stayed outside much longer, his dick would fall off. Cas immediately grabbed Dean's hand, yanked him from the ground, and pulled him inside. They pulled their boots off, hung caps, scarves, and coats up. Cas started making hot chocolate on the stove, and Dean went to turn on the electric blanket on their bed.

Dean was curled into the bed when Cas came up. They both cuddled together and sipped their hot chocolate in silence. When they were finished, just as Dean was starting to drift off into sleep, Cas woke him up.

"Dean! I forgot! I _forgot_!" he shouted, leaping up from the bed. Dean groaned and climbed out after him. He followed Cas downstairs, out the door, and to the car. He wasn't really paying that much attention, just following the little blur that was his lover.

Cas was sitting in the passenger seat of the Impala, waiting for Dean to get in the driver's spot.

"I didn't get the keys, Cas," Dean said, climbing into the front.

"We don't need keys for this." Cas opened his hand, revealing a bauble on a longish string. He hung it around the Impala's rearview mirror. "See, now our entire home is decorated."

Dean wanted nothing more than kiss his boyfriend-slash-soul-mate right then. But the freezing temperatures were getting to him.

So he got out of the car and went inside. When Cas was in, too, he slammed Cas against the door.

"Cas," Dean breathed between kisses. "Why are you so goddamned perfect?"

Cas let out a breathy laugh.


	6. Chapter 6

Impala

It was a Thursday.

It was also Valentine's Day.

They were in upstate New York, searching for a ghost. It should have been simple work, really. But weird stuff kept happening.

On the eleventh, when they arrived, the motel only had the "honeymoon suite" and a single room available. Why a motel would even have a honeymoon suite was completely beyond Dean. Sam claimed the single faster than Dean could even _think_, so that meant he and Cas were stuck in the suite. Great. There was a large bed and a chaise. Dean let Cas have the bed.

On the twelfth, when Dean was walking into the diner, he suddenly tripped and vaulted straight into Cas' arms. A few of the nearby patrons clapped and smiled like this was cute or something. The waitress told Dean that he was very lucky to have such a sweet companion after Cas asked for a refill on Dean's coffee. Dean flushed a deep red, and Sam couldn't stop laughing. Cas thanked her for the compliment.

On the thirteenth, after they had burned the bones, they went back to the motel. Dean walked in to find _rose petals_ on the bed, and sexy music playing. Dean slammed the CD player off and went to hide in the bathroom.

Dean had been having feelings for Cas for quite some time now, but was able to keep them pretty secret. A few times, maybe, he had to curl up towards the wall and away from the rest of the room's occupants to hide an untimely Cas-related boner. Okay, a lot of times. Sometimes he couldn't help himself, that when Cas stared at him, he stared right back. Other times, he found himself just wanting to _cuddle_ with the angel. Which was weird, if Dean thought about what it meant.

Today, though? Today is a different story.

Dean and Cas have to go pick up Sam from the library so they could leave. The nerd had _insisted_ on visiting one last time, saying this library had exceptional texts on the supernatural. Whatever. Cas has popped into the Impala and is waiting patiently. When Dean opens his door and sits down, it starts.

More rose petal start drifting from the ceiling. When they touch something solid, they disappear. The car's radio, though off, is playing "The Way You Look Tonight" piano version.

It's too much for Dean. He jumps out of the car and backs away from it. Cas simply stays, enjoying the music. He reaches out to one of the petals and gasps.

"Ha, ha, ha!" Dean hears, in a terribly familiar voice. When he turns around, he's pretty shocked.

"You're dead!"

"Nnnno, I'm not," the archangel says.

Cas pops out of the car, landing _right next_ to Dean. Really. Their arms are touching. Dean doesn't mind.

"Gabriel!" Cas says.

Gabriel's light brown eyes dance in laughter as he grins at Dean.

"Hello, brother! Long time, no see." Gabe, shockingly, pulls Cas in for a hug. Cas pats him on the back, if a little awkwardly. "Cas, please go get Sam. I have to see my favorite moose!"

When Cas pops away, a smile on his face, Gabe turns on Dean.

"Why haven't you _gotten the hint_?" he asks, inclosing on Dean's personal space until he's only three inches away.

"Hint?" Dean repeats dumbly.

"We know you've been crushing on Cas, and I've given you _several_ opportunities the past couple days to tell him, or make a move, or _something_. But come on! You're so thick that you'd rather go on alone and pining for my brother than actually say anything!"

Dean sputters. This is not computing. We know? Who knows? And for how long?

"Me and Sammikins have been plotting together for _weeks_ trying to get you two together!" Gabe looks long and hard at Dean. "Ugh!" he exclaims. He snaps his fingers and Cas is back in the Impala, confused. Sam is standing behind Gabe. "This is your last chance, Deanie." He snaps again, and Dean is in the Impala, next to Cas. Gabe and Sam are gone.

"Can you believe it?" Cas says excitedly. "Gabriel's back!"

Dean decided to take this chance. Couldn't hurt, right? Well, yeah, it could. Cas could not feel the same, Cas could reject him, Cas could get angry or upset or smitey. Or all three.

"Cas?" Dean murmurs.

Cas understands the cue. "Yes, Dean?" he says, just as low.

"I—uh, I—" _God, Dean, get yourself together! Just tell him you love him!_

Dean takes a deep breath. _Okay. Let's do this._

What comes out isn't exactly… manly.

"Cas, I really like you, like, _like you,_ like you." Great. Kindergarten level.

Cas stares.

Oh, God. Dean can see emotions go through Cas' eyes, but can't name any of them. He expects Cas to maybe yell at him, push him away, get out and storm away, or even pop out of the car and never come back.

What he doesn't expect, though, is for Cas to smile.

"Dean," Cas breathes. Cas puts his hand on Dean's, where it's resting on the seat between them. Cas puts his hand on Dean's cheek, and suddenly Dean's heart is thudding harder, his breath is coming faster, he's slightly dizzy, and his mouth is tingling.

When Cas leans forward and ends up about two inches away from Dean's face, Dean knows what to do. He's good at this part, not so good at the "expressing his feelings" part.

Dean closes the gap, pressing their lips together. They stay gloriously still for a moment, before Cas leans away, sucking in a huge breath, pulling Dean closer to him. Somehow, Dean ends up in Cas' lap. Their lips meet, then part. Dean hesitantly pokes his tongue inside Cas' mouth, not wanting to force anything.

Cas accepts willingly, his own tongue surging forward to taste Dean. Dean's hands find their way into Cas' hair, gripping the strands tightly. (Here, Dean's mind automatically supplies "raising them from perdition.") Their mouths are working with each other now, pushing and pulling in synchrony. Cas is tugging on the front of Dean's jacket, wanting to be closer. Though, being in the Impala, there is only so much room.

Gabe had zapped him and Sam into the single motel room. The archangel is currently lying on the bed and flipping through channels, munching on candy. Sam is sitting in the chaise, on his laptop.

**A/N: Thanks for reading, and clicking that follow or favourite button! It makes me glad to know you enjoy it! All reviews are appreciated! I fudged a bit towards the end, because I fail at continuity. I suddenly remembered Amelia, but had planned out a side of Sabriel. If you want to know the Sabriel ending, message me and I'll give it to you. I really have no place for Amelia here. She can be the awkward duck.**


	7. Chapter 7

**I apologize for being super late on this; things have been completely crazy round here. And I also kinda didn't want to have it end :( Also, I realize the whole Amelia thing, but GDI I STILL SHIP IT. So here it is, hope you enjoy:) **

Impala

It was a Friday.

The sixteenth of April.

It didn't mean that much, not really. It was just another Friday, another month, another year. Dean had sometimes let whole weeks pass by without any consideration. Why was today so special?

Today was the day that Dean and Cas got married.

It was funny, actually, because they had asked each other. Dean did the traditional, down-on-one-knee gesture, while Cas had seen one too many chick flicks and had hidden a ring (thankfully not a girly one) in Dean's napkin.

Dean and Castiel currently stand at opposite ends of the aisle. They were at a small chapel about twenty miles out, a place where anyone was welcome. The preacher man was thrilled to be the one to officiate the union. Nobody walked down the aisle; nobody had fathers to lead them. They met at the center.

They both had black suits, with white carnations. Dean's hair was slicked back a bit, but Cas' hair refused to be tamed. The equal mix of groomsmen and "bridesmaids" stood mingled off to the side, grinning like fools.

When Dean and Cas slipped the simple silver band around each other's finger, there were whistles and giggles and an outright "Yes!" that Dean was pretty sure came from Amelia. When their lips met, Sam groaned loudly but clapped anyways, and Dean felt the urge to flip him the bird. Stupid baby brothers and their stupidness.

The reception was held at Dean and Cas' place, in a cleared portion of the junkyard. There were string lights, folding chairs, and beer. It was perfect. The first dance wasn't some sappy little tune; it was Zeppelin's "All of My Love."

Cas took a forkful of his cake and pressed it into Dean's face. Dean did not appreciate that.

Around seven o'clock, everyone left. Dean and Cas stared at each other from the driveway.

Cas suddenly darted towards the house. Dean, after a beat or two, chased after him. Cas didn't stop running until he leapt on the bed.

Clothes fluttered to the floor.

Lying bare together, still breathing heavy and more than a little sticky, Cas wouldn't stop looking at Dean.

"What?" Dean asked. "Is there something on my face?"

Cas shook his head. "I just can't believe you're _mine_ now."

Dean chuckled. "I know the feeling." He leaned forward and pressed his lips to his lover's—partner's—_husband's_.

**I know, incredibly short. I'm sorry. I didn't want it to be full of every single detail; I wanted it to be sweet and slightly vague. Also, I hope you liked the song. I spent way too long to find the perfect first dance song for a couple like Dean and Cas. **

**Please review, feel free to shoot me a message, anything. This is tied up for now, everybody. **


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